Page 29 of Fangs

His thumb—shadow-claw and all—drags across my lower lip, smearing the chill of him into my skin. The darkness presses closer, thick and intoxicating.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he promises, voice raw. “I’m going to drive into this pretty cunt until your blood races to every hungry place in your body. And when you come, when that pleasure floods your bloodstream, I’m going to drink it like the finest wine.” His tongue wets his upper lip. “I will ruin you, Lucille. I will take every last piece of what you are and leave nothing but the memory of my name. And you will thank me while you shatter on my cock.”

My breath stutters. My thighs press together hard enough to ache.

“Do you want that?” He tilts his head, predator toying with trembling prey. “Say it. Do you want me to ruin you?”

The answer tears out of me, ragged and shameless. “Yes.”

He clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“I’m giving you one final chance, sweet Lucille.” His eyes blacken with red. “Tell me to stop.” The command cracks like a whip. “Say it. Now.”

I stay silent.

He lifts me clean off the stone, one powerful claws locking under my ass as my legs wrap around his waist. I lock my ankles behind his back. A single shadow-claw digs into my hip and drags me hard against the thick, steel ridge of his cock trapped behind his trousers.

“Tell me you want this.” His hips roll up into my core, insistent, filthy, grinding the hard length of him exactly where I need it. “Tell me you need more.”

“More.” I beg.

He takes my mouth passionately. The shadows slam closed around us like a living cage, sealing us in complete black.

They crawl over my skin like molten lava, hot and possessive, searing every nerve. They slip beneath the remaining buttons of my dress—the same ones Cain’s clumsy fingers began to unbutton, but were always meant for my true master to complete. The shadows press outward with fierce intent, ready to tear the fabric apart the same way they shredded my nightgown last night..

“Please be gentle,” I gasp against his lips. “How would I explain a ruined uniform?”

The shadows pause. Then they obey in their own way. They slide outside the fabric instead. One button. Then the next. Then the next. Slow. Deliberate. Each soft pop of thread feels louder than the last.

The dress falls open, lifted and peeled away by living darkness until it hangs from my elbows, then drops completely. Cool night air kisses my bare breasts. The only thing left between us is a scrap of red lace.

“Enough of being gentle,” he groans.

His shadow-claws hook into the delicate sides of the thong and rip. The lace gives with a soft sound. The ruined scrap flutters to the stone. While the shadows begin to worship every inch of my skin.

They pour over my breasts, coiling tight around each peaked nipple, tugging, rolling, pinching with perfect, relentless pressure. Another thick tendril slides between my thighs, spreading me open against the hard bulge of his cock. It finds my clit and circles it in slow, devastating strokes while a second tendril pushes inside me, thick and cool and pulsing, stretching me open while I stay locked on his lap.

I cry out into his mouth. My hips jerk helplessly against him.

The shadows fuck me with ruthless precision. The one inside me curls and strokes that hidden place that makes my vision white out. The one on my clit never stops. More tendrils wrap my thighs, keeping me spread wide for them while his shadow-claws dig into my hips, forcing me to grind harder against the thick ridge of his still-clothed cock.

Pleasure builds vicious and fast. My nails dig into his shoulders through the velvet of his jacket. My head falls back. A broken, high sound tears from my throat as the first orgasm crashes through me. My pussy clenches hard around the shadow buried inside me. Wetness floods down my thighs.

The shadows drink thirstily, taking every drop. They thrust deeper, working me through every pulse, every shudder, until I’m shaking and oversensitive and still coming.

He never stops grinding me against him. Fully dressed. Completely in control. The shadows keep moving, keep claiming, keep wringing every last drop of pleasure from my body while I stay locked around his waist.

“This is not a dream,” he growls against my lips. “Eyes on me. I’m going to consume every fucking inch of you.”

I gasp, trembling. “Consume me.”

His eyes blaze pure red.

“I warned you.”

His control fractures.

He transforms in a single violent heartbeat. His eyes flood pure, feral crimson. He grows taller, his frame expanding with power. When he hisses, I see them…